


Many Cross Along the Way

by orphan_account



Category: RPF - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-09
Updated: 2009-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-02 04:21:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The "hands off" policy isn't working.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Many Cross Along the Way

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by princessofg and bookaddict43.

"Yeah, so, technically we're invited." Claudia rolled her eyes at Ben.

The door of the trailer snapped shut behind her. "You want any of this?" She held out the Red Bull she was sipping.

Ben shook his head, tossing his magazine aside. He was draped over Claudia's too-small couch.

"What d'you tell 'em?" he asked.

"That there was no fucking way we could stand one more moment of their non-stop inside jokes, unsolicited advice, and pretentious, pseudo-intellectual philosophizing about their silly little space show."

Ben snorted. "No, seriously."

Claudia shrugged. "Just said we had other plans."

"Do we?" He cocked an eyebrow. "Have other plans, I mean?” He swung his legs off the couch to make room for her, letting her settle in next to him.

"I don't know; it's only six o’clock.”

The gold, early-evening light was filtering in through the metal blinds. "But I feel like if I just tipped my head back and closed my eyes, I’d be asleep in seconds."

“Yeah. Me too. Long day.”

“We could order in . . . Chinese . . . maybe—“

Ben shook his head. “No, thanks. I’ve already hit my carb limit for the day.”

Claudia smirked. “Some things never change.”

“Well, some things are harder for the rest of us than they are for you.” Ben grinned.

She saw him reach out to touch her, then stop himself.

They sat in silence while the patch of light from the window made its way up slowly up the wall.

Claudia took a long drink. “So is it working?”

“The carb limit?”

“No.” She didn’t look at him. “You know what I mean. The other thing.”

Ben took a deep breath but didn’t say anything.

“It just doesn’t feel natural to me, is all. You want to spend time with me, but I feel like I’m walking on eggshells,” Claudia said.

“You’re not walking on eggshells. You’re—look, if I made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry.” He rubbed his forehead. “I could go . . .” he added half-heartedly.

“Don’t be sorry, just—I don’t know. I’ve already said everything I have to say about that.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I need there to be rules. If I let myself touch you, I’ll want . . . look, like you said, we’ve talked about this. We don’t need to talk about it again.” He sighed. “But you know I can’t be half-way with you, Claud; I never could.”

“I’m not trying to be dramatic, but what we had never felt like ‘half’ of anything to me.”

"Claud—"

When she leaned over and kissed him, he didn’t stop her. The room suddenly felt much darker. He pressed his lips to hers twisting his body toward her.

She pulled away long enough to ask, “Ben, is this okay?”

She watched him. After all this time, she could parse every sound, every movement. She ran her thumb over his jaw absently, tracing his hairline with her fingertips.

“It’s—it’s always okay, Claud—”

She went back to kissing him. When she wrapped her arms around him, he sighed and relaxed into her. She thought he seemed relieved. Grateful. She'd always loved how different Ben felt, how different from his on-screen persona. When **John** kissed her, it was all about some kind of alpha-male domination—and soldier or not, fighter pilot or not, she was still the fluttery-chested romance novel heroine. But Ben's kisses were always shy, gentle and tentative, no matter how many times they'd done this. He always followed her lead. He let her pull him closer; let his slide her tongue past his lips.

Claudia eased him onto his back and tried to straddle him without breaking the kiss. Their elbows and knees bumped together as they jostled for room, and she laughed quietly, taking in the way Ben's blue eyes crinkled along the edges as he smiled back at her.

His hand was resting on her waist, lightly, carefully—not possessive, not expectant. She guided his hand up under her tank top, amused at the way his eyes closed involuntarily. He cupped her breasts obediently, running a thumb over her nipple. Ben never seemed to forget what she liked, no matter how long they were apart.

When she pressed her hips to his, looking for friction, his eyes blinked open in surprise. She could feel him, already hard beneath the soft denim of his jeans; his breath warm as he a slow line of kisses down her neck and across her clavicle. She pulled away and slid her tank top over her head, tossing it onto the carpet, then smoothed her hand over the narrow band of skin exposed between the top of his jeans and his rucked up t-shirt, teasing the shirt upward. He pulled it up over his head, and she watched how his abs tensed and relaxed as he bent and rearranged himself beneath her. The t-shirt left gel-stiff strands of hair askew.

Ben brought her hair away from her face, gathering it to one side. She kissed his temple, and ran her tongue over the shell of his ear, hearing his breathing quicken. His nails left goose bumps along her back. She pressed her breast to his mouth, shivering as his tongue found her nipple. When he pulled her closer, she pressed her hips against him reflexively.

“I think we should—” Her voice was a little unsteady.

“Bed?” He sounded uncertain. His body started to stiffen a bit underneath her.

She kissed him gently, smoothing her hands along his shoulders, down his chest.

“Mmm . . . no,” she paused to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Too far away.” She took his bottom lip between her teeth lightly, tracing the seam of the mouth with her tongue.

Leaning back enough to reach down and unbutton his fly, she pressed her hand into the V of the denim. She touched him through the thin cotton of his briefs, lightly with her fingertips, then firmly with the palm of her hand. If he was still questioning himself, she couldn’t see it. She watched him arch into her touch, pressing helplessly into her hand.

He moaned and shifted beneath her, pulling away gently and easing his way onto the floor. When he settled himself in between her knees, she helped him slide her jeans down over legs, pooling them on the floor with the rest of the discarded clothing. He kissed her knees, her thighs. She leaned back into the cushions as he thumbed her clit through the cotton of her underwear. She shivered; her stomach tightening with want.

When she starting pushing into his touch, looking for more contact, he paused to slide her panties down over hips. He curled his arms around her thighs and pulled her closer, pressing his mouth up against her wetness. She felt the stubble of his chin against her, half-pleasure, half-ticklish.

His mouth started to tease her outer lips, working his way inward. He gave her a few slow, long swipes of his tongue, bottom to top. She tensed underneath him as he eased his tongue into her inner folds, circling her clit, teasing her opening. She shuddered as the jags of sensation coursed through her.

When he pressed his tongue into her, sliding in and out of her, she grasped at head unconsciously. She could feel her wetness starting to spread, trickling downwards.

When he made his way back up toward her clit, her whole body went rigid in anticipation. He circled it a few times and she tightened her hands in his hair, encouraging him in the direction she wanted.

His tongue began to feather her clit with light, quick strokes, lashing it from side to side, making her moan.

"Ben . . . that’s . . . that feels—" She saw the smile in his eyes, even though she couldn’t see his mouth.

He swirled his tongue over the hard nub, then sucked it hard, and she lost the ability to think about anything other than how badly she wanted to come.

He took his cues from her movements, and when she started to moan and buck, he settled into the rhythm she set for him.

She heard herself saying his name over and over. He slid a couple fingers into her, curling them inside her in rapid strokes. Her hands clenched and she cried out as she felt the first bolts of orgasm course through her. She pressed into him frantically but he kept his tongue just where she wanted it, stretching out her pleasure as long as possible. Her back arched and her hands tightened in his hair as the orgasm washed over her.

He eased her through it, making his touches lighter and lighter, letting her come down slowly. He kissed her thighs again, his eyes closed peacefully as she soothed the back of his neck with her callused fingertips.

She smiled at him, eyelids heavy, as he licked his lips. She bent down to kiss him, wrapping her arms around him and following his tongue into his mouth, enjoying the taste of herself on him.

She pulled him toward her, letting him break away long enough to stand and take off his jeans. She couldn’t help but feel satisfied that all of his slow, languid movements had been replaced with urgent ones. It was almost completely dark by now, but even in the dim light she could make out enough of him—strong shoulders, muscular legs—to feel another pang of desire as she looked his body over. The one she knew by heart, the one she could never make herself stop wanting.

She reached out for him, grasping at his hipbone. “I want—”

“I know, I know, I know—” he said, soothing, almost a whisper. He let her guide him down on top of her. She wanted to feel his weight; she wanted to feel pinned.

He kissed her mouth, then her neck, sucking lightly at the sensitive skin. As they moved up against each other, wanting to touch as much as possible, trying to find room, their legs became nicely entwined. She ran her foot over his calf, pushing her hips against his, feeling his erection against his thighs. She reached between them to stroke it, feeling his breathing get more rapid.

He didn’t resist when she guided him into her. He made an indistinct sound, half her name, half moan and she gasped at the feeling of fullness when he was fully seated inside her. She curled her arms under his, gripping his back, pushing up against him impatiently.

He propped himself up enough to kiss her, pressing his lips to hers, and then started to move. She loved having him inside her after she’d come, loved the feeling of his cock sliding over her ultra-sensitized skin, shooting aftershocks through her body.

She buried her face in his neck, breathing in the scent of him, listening to the small sounds of pleasure he made, till he shuddered and she tightened, feeling the wetness of his orgasm deep inside her. She pulled him closer, wanting as much of him as possible. He said something like her name, under his breath, and they kissed lazily, Claudia running her nails slowly up and down his back.

She felt him start to soften inside of her.

Ben propped himself up to move off of her. There was too little couch and too much body for much afterglow lying down. She pulled her legs up to make room to sit. He leaned back, still post-orgasm lazy, and rested his head on the back of the sofa. She thought he would reach out for her, but he didn’t. They sat quietly for moment, not looking at one another. The silence felt heavy.

When he rolled his head to the side to look at her, she got up before he could meet her eyes.

“So,” she said, groping for a light. The sudden brightness was jarring.

She bent in front of the tiny refrigerator, stealing a glance behind her. Even loose limbed and sated, she could see the beginnings of tension starting gather in his body. She could tell he was trying to hide it. Didn’t want to make her feel bad, most likely. Or didn’t want a heavy conversation after such a long day, especially when they both knew they would just end up back where they started.

She smiled at him, all false cheerfulness and forced lightness "There's more Red Bull in here; and biscuits.” She took the box out. “You’ve earned it?" She shook the box, raising her eyebrows in invitation. Trying to head off whatever it was he was going to say—or not say.

Ben looked at her long moment. She could tell she wasn’t fooling him, but the corners of his mouth turned upward anyway. He couldn’t stop himself from responding to her smile. He never could. "Save your breath, Claud”, he said. “Even you can't make me give into temptation."


End file.
